


You Are The  River, I Am Stone

by naity_sama



Category: Bleach
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Purring, Rimming, mild hollow hole kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 20:26:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15915639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naity_sama/pseuds/naity_sama
Summary: Ichigo scratched at the side of his neck nonchalantly. “Depends on what happens tonight.” At Grimmjow's stormy expression, Ichigo clarified, “You get two choices. Either we stop this right now - no more fights, no more sex – or we try something different.”Grimmjow drew himself up, a snort of indignation poised ready in his lungs. His gaze took in Ichigo's demeanor, raked over the serious set of his brow and the tightness of his jaw. Ichigo was dead serious. Grimmjow let the air out in a slow exhale, his nostrils flaring.“I'll bite,” Grimmjow snapped, the jagged teeth on his mask clattering together menacingly as he lowered Pantera.ORThe rimming fic this fandom needed.





	You Are The  River, I Am Stone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shapooda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shapooda/gifts).



> The lovely @Shapooda on Tumblr drew me a lovely little piece with Grimmjow being rimmed. This is what it inspired.
> 
> UPDATE: Her artwork is now in COLOR.

Ichigo's blade met Pantera with a shuddering clang and a flare of Reiatsu. Grimmjow braced his palm on the flat of his blade to brace it, and let the momentum of the blow push him backwards. Sparks of power danced through the shower of dust kicked up by his heels as they dug into the earth. Grimmjow's muscles bunched as he let Pantera be pressed almost to his chest with the force. Nearly face-to-face with Ichigo, Grimmjow's jaw split into a toothsome grin, the rigid plates of bone adhered to his cheek forming a gruesome caricature of his expression. The Arrancar took a drawn out moment to appreciate the widening of his opponent's eyes as sharp teeth narrowly missed closing on the end of his nose, laughter rumbling through his chest and spilling out in waves before using the leverage provided by his buried feet and straining arms to fling Ichigo away.

 

Ichigo was propelled through the oncoming dusk, nearly tumbling ass over teakettle before he was able to regain his footing mid-air. He held Zangetsu at the ready in one clenched fist as his other hand came up to inspect the end of his nose with a stilted glare. At the other side of the clearing, Grimmjow shook with poorly contained mirth, snapping his teeth at Ichigo playfully. The redhead looked away, a scowl plastered across his face. Ichigo had been in a funk all day; his reactions just a moment shy of perfect, his quips nigh on non-existent, and his entire demeanor oddly reluctant. Grimmjow had started this fight determined to conquer, but there was no fun in winning against someone who was determined not to fully engage. Grimmjow let his grin drop into a tight frown. He had tried goading. He had tried baiting. Bad-mouthing, ribbing, insults and otherwise unsavory conduct had all failed to drag a rise out of Kurosaki.

 

Usually, Ichigo was easily cajoled into a quick and dirty clash of swords. One of them would win – or it would be a draw- and then they would fuck fast and hard while riding the coattails of adrenaline. That was how it always went. Grimmjow glowered at Ichigo and Ichigo matched him glare for glare, each plumed breath in the crisp breeze counting out another second of their stalemate.

 

“You figure it out yet?” Ichigo's voice rang out in relative silence of their panted exhales. “No? I'll give you a clue.” Ichigo stabbed Zangetsu's tip into the hard ground and crossed his arms. His shoulders straightened and the ragged sleeves of his shihakusho flapped in a fitful gust of wind. “You're not putting your dick in me tonight.” Grimmjow's brow furrowed and a sneer pulled onto his lips.

 

“The fuck are we even here for, then, Kurosaki?” Grimmjow bit out, knuckles blanching white over Pantera's hilt.

 

“I thought this was about fighting. But it's not. Maybe it never has been,” Ichigo hissed, leaning forward with clenched jaw. “You tell me, Grimmjow. What is this really about?”

 

A hundred different thoughts scattered across the surface of Grimmjow's mind, but shied away when he clawed at them. Anger and frustration coiled in his gut until it erupted in a wordless shout. What did he want? A fair fight. A good fight. To win more often than he lost. Those were things he knew. If it wasn't about fighting – what else could it be about besides fighting? His boot kicked out at a rock, punting it hard enough to embed itself in the trunk of a nearby tree. Another bellowing scream tore into the coming night. Everything was about fighting. That was how things went. Grimmjow continued to exhaust himself, choosing to take out his irritation on the tree. It was overall unsatisfying, but still better than taking on Ichigo when he wouldn't even fight him. It also allowed him to think.

 

“Tonight.” Grimmjow rounded on Ichigo, pointing Pantera's gleaming blade at his head. “You said I'm not putting my dick in you _tonight._ What about tomorrow night?” Ichigo brought his hands together with a crack. He repeated the action, turning the sound into a slow clap.

“There we go. Now you're getting it.” Ichigo scratched at the side of his neck nonchalantly. “Depends on what happens tonight.” At Grimmjow's stormy expression, Ichigo clarified, “You get two choices. Either we stop this right now - no more fights, no more sex – or we try something different.”

 

Grimmjow drew himself up, a snort of indignation poised ready in his lungs. His gaze took in Ichigo's demeanor, raked over the serious set of his brow and the tightness of his jaw. Ichigo was dead serious. Grimmjow let the air out in a slow exhale, his nostrils flaring.

 

“I'll bite,” Grimmjow snapped, the jagged teeth on his mask clattering together menacingly as he lowered Pantera. In response, Ichigo sheathed his blade and strode forward to stand toe-to-toe with the Arrancar.

 

“You're the one who gets to be on the receiving end tonight.” At Ichigo's words, Grimmjow's eyes widened. Grimmjow was getting ready to let out a snarl, his hand already moving to slash out with his blade when Ichigo caught his wrist and continued, “Otherwise, I'll never fight you again. Your choice.” Wrist gripped tight enough to bruise, Grimmjow sneered.

 

“Or,” Ichigo taunted, pulling Grimmjow closer, “are you afraid to try it?”

 

“Fuck you, Kurosaki! I'm not afraid of you!” Grimmjow pressed himself into Ichigo's space, sheathing Pantera so he could fist his hand in Ichigo's hair and pull them together. Their mouths met, hot and brutal. Teeth clashed uncomfortably, but neither one was willing to voice their discomfort. Instead, they bit harshly at each others tongues. But all too soon, Ichigo pulled away.

 

“Remember, if you agree to this, tonight is on my terms,” he murmured against Grimmjow's cheek before stepping back. Grimmjow's face was decidedly mulish, but his brows were knit together resolutely. When Ichigo walked away, Grimmjow followed.

 

 

 

 

The first time they had crept into a hotel, it had been been Grimmjow's idea. Ichigo had protested vehemently until Grimmjow made the point that they could either keep getting sand where the sun didn't shine, or they could borrow a room no one else was using. Going to Ichigo's house definitely wasn't an option. Now, it was old hat avoiding people that couldn't even see them to borrow a room key to an empty penthouse. This time Ichigo led, Grimmjow ducking through the door and gently shutting it behind them. There was a front room with a couch and mini-bar that they ignored, heading straight for the Queen size bed.

 

Grimmjow remained quiet and petulant as Ichigo began shucking his attire. Ichigo was already nearly down to just his hakama and was hopping on one foot to untie his shoe as Grimmjow finally shed his jacket. When Ichigo smirked at him, he sneered his lip and tossed his belts to the floor. Smugly, Ichigo shimmied out of his pants and cocked a hip against the corner of the bed.

 

“Well?”

 

Grimmjow grumbled something unflattering under his breath as he skinned himself out of his jumpsuit. He had to stop to yank his boots off, but eventually managed. He stood there for a moment, definitely not a little uncertain, before throwing himself onto the center of the bed with a huff. Ichigo only watched, dark eyes roving over the planes of Grimmjow's tense muscles. Finally, the Arrancar turned to look at him. There was a wary look in those blue eyes, as if Grimmjow was worried about Ichigo being in control. Incorrigible as ever, Grimmjow narrowed his eyes in challenge and gestured to his body as if to say 'be my guest'.

 

“Touch yourself.” Ichigo sat down on he corner of the bed, close enough to rest his hand on Grimmjow's ankle, which he did. “Not there,” he amended as Grimmjow's hand made a beeline for his soft cock. Grimmjow chuffed out a defiant noise, but nonetheless complied, his broad hand retreating from its original target and scratching through his pubes. Eventually he began tracing his nails lightly over the dips and curves of is abdomen, avoiding the gaping void of nothing in the center. Ichigo made a circular motion over his own stomach, indicating what he wanted Grimmjow to do. The Arrancar grimaced a little, but obligingly traced his finger around the lip of the hole. The reaction was immediate. Grimmjow's breath hitched and the muscles of his stomach fluttered. He did it again, slower this time, and the sensation had his jaw clenching as all the muscles in his body pulled taut. A few more passes and he was panting, his cock half hard as his body trembled with warring sensations. He jerked his hand away as his eyes snapped open, whites showing wildly.

 

“Fucking hell -” Grimmjow grit out between pants, “ - can't do that for long.” At Ichigo's intrigued and inquisitive eyebrow, he elaborated. “Too much – just, too _much_.” Nodding, the redhead gestured for Grimmjow to continue. Now into the groove of things, Grimmjow trailed his hand up and down the scar that bisected his torso, fingers playing over the ragged edges of the wound. After a minute or so, Grimmjow moved onto his nipples, bringing his other hand into play so he could pinch at both. Judging by the mildly startled expression on his face, Grimmjow had never really spent a lot of time on the little nubs before.

 

“Don't stop,” Ichigo ordered, scooting up the bed so that he was kneeling between Grimmjow's spread legs. He reached out and laid his hands on Grimmjow's firm sides, just over his ribs and felt the play of muscle as Grimmjow breathed. Without warning, he arched his hands and scraped his nails all the way down to narrow hips. Something between an indignant curse and a strangled moan fell from Grimmjow's mouth, his legs jerking up reflexively. Ichigo caught Grimmjow's knees and pushed them outwards, making Grimmjow splay his legs obscenely. “Didn't say you could stop touching. Try somewhere else.”

 

Grimmjow let his hands reach up to caress his neck, gripping for a moment as if he would choke himself before sliding along the edge of his jaw. His nails grated along the surface of his mask, fingers clattering over the ridged surface of the teeth and ending with a thumb pulling down his own lower lip. If the smirk curving the corners of his mouth didn't show that he was into the spirit of the game, the startling pink of his tongue caressing the pad of his thumb confirmed it. His other hand climbed up to curl into blue hair, mussing its carefully combed strands. His nails scratched over his scalp, a languid motion until he reached the spot just behind his ear. Unconsciously, his eyelids drifted half-shut. Ichigo sat up, intensely focused on the look of pleasure on Grimmjow's face. Grimmjow's other hand came up to rub at his other ear, eyes nearly crossing, as a faint thrumming sound became noticeable.

 

“Are you – _are you_ _ **purring**_?” Ichigo edged closer, incredulity painted across his features. Grimmjow's eyes shot open and the quiet rumbling ceased.

 

“I can't fucking _**purr**_ , Kurosaki.” Grimmjow spluttered.

 

“Nuh-uh. I heard purring. Right about-” Ichigo took a hand off Grimmjow's knee and laid the palm flat to the center of Grimmjow's chest, “-here.” Grimmjow scowled dangerously and moved to pull his hands from his hair. Ichigo beat him to it, digging his own hands into blue locks and scritching vigorously. At first, he stiffened under the touch, but he soon melted into it. Within moments a soft, heady rumble was pulsating against Ichigo's palm. “God, you _**are**_ purring...” Ichigo gasped. His hand swept from Grimmjow's chest to lightly encircle his throat where the sensation was stronger. He could practically see the vibration through the soft skin.

 

Color flooded Grimmjow's cheeks as he turned his head to the side, effectively pressing his face to Ichigo's palm. His eyes were cast to the corner of the room, studiously ignoring both his own purring and Ichigo's continued cooing about it. He listened, however, when Ichigo commanded him to continue petting himself. His hands rubbed circles behind his own temples as Ichigo's slid down his body. They stopped at his hips, having skirted the hollow in his abdomen, and met again just above his cock. Grimmjow's hips shifted in anticipation, but Ichigo simply went around to rest at the junctions of Grimmjow's thighs. They were spread nearly far enough to be uncomfortable, the tendons standing out starkly, straining with tension.

 

Ichigo let his eyes wander over bared flesh, taking it in and committing it to memory. Like this, Grimmjow was gorgeous. His tawny skin was warm and supple, striking hair a rumpled mess swaying before green limned, cerulean eyes. Each breath highlighted the depth and breadth of his frame, muscles rippling and glistening with the movement. Even the way his toes curled into the bedspread was perfect. With a sudden motion, Ichigo stroked both hands up Grimmjow's cock, causing him to jolt forwards with a startled groan.

 

“Lie back. Grab the headboard while you're at it,” Ichigo smirked, his hands working their way up and down Grimmjow's cock. It was hot and heavy in his palms, already dripping just a little. Grimmjow wavered with indecision before he settled and reached back to grip the wooden headboard firmly. In reward, Ichigo dipped forward to tongue roughly at the slit on the end of his dick. At the head of the bed, wood creaked as it was clenched too tightly. After a few quick swipes, Ichigo pulled back and completely released Grimmjow's cock. Grimmjow was panting, eyes fixed on Ichigo's mouth as if he could direct it back to his dick by sheer force of willpower.

 

“Good boy.” Ichigo wasn't sure if it was embarrassment or sheer indignant fury that colored Grimmjow's face a dark red. Either way, the furious blushing as he whipped his head to the side with a gritted 'shaddap' was lovely. It even crept up the backs of his ears. “Well, if you're going to act like _**that-”**_ Ichigo admonished, patting Grimmjow's hip like as if to comfort him, “-you can turn over. C'mon. Hands and knees. Get up.”

 

Ichigo nearly expected to be kicked in the face. As it was, it was a very near thing as Grimmjow swung around with a huff. He kneeled facing the front of the bed before looking back over his shoulder. The lines were set deep between his brows, almost worried, but the blush was still prominent. His shoulders were tense, as if he didn't entirely know what to do with his body. Ichigo crawled forwards and cupped his face, noting that the purring had stopped.

 

“If you really don't want to do this, just tell me, Grimmjow.”

 

“Che. Did I fucking tell you to stop? No. So shut up.” Grimmjow flushed a little darker and he wouldn't meet Ichigo's eyes when Ichigo leaned in for a kiss. For the first time, it was soft and gentle. When Ichigo pulled away, he smoothed Grimmjow's hair back and rested his hands on his shoulders. He didn't press yet, opting to press his lips to Grimmjow's neck and lay a trail of open mouthed kisses that had the other relaxing into his grip. He left a mark at the softest spot on the side of Grimmjow's neck, another just below his ear that left him shuddering. Ichigo focused there for a moment, nibbling along Grimmjow's ears, one to the other and rubbing just behind them with his thumbs. Soon, Grimmjow was nearly sagging into him, his purring returned even deeper than before. Only then did Ichigo press his hands on Grimmjow's shoulders and guide him down. He took the time to arrange a pillow for him to rest his chest on, because at this point Grimmjow was nearly boneless. When he started to tense a little, Ichigo massaged the back of his neck until he was limp against the pillow once again. When Ichigo was sure that Grimmjow was relaxed, he began kissing his way down his spine, occasionally straying to lick a bead of sweat. He pressed his forehead to the curve of Grimmjow's spine for a moment and reveled in the throbbing rumble of his purr as it reverberated in his chest.

 

Ichigo moved down his spine, hands caressing his sides as he went until they were on either side of Grimmjow's hips. He stroked there reassuringly before guiding Grimmjow to pull his legs under himself better. Now he was face down on the bed with his ass up in the air, which was perfect for what Ichigo had planned. He took his time stroking over Grimmjow's legs and body with his hands, rubbing over his calves and back and stomach before circling to his backside. Grimmjow's cock was still hanging heavy between his legs, red with need. Ichigo started there, touching enough to make Grimmjow shift his hips a little, but not enough to really give him any pleasure. Instead, he trailed his fingers up until he was gently cupping Grimmjow's balls in his hand. Very gently, he rolled them between his fingers, watching for any negative reaction. At first, Grimmjow stilled uncertainly, but when nothing happened, he relaxed into it. Ichigo took that as permission to press a sloppy kiss to the underside of Grimmjow's sack. _That_ got him a reaction.

 

Grimmjow shifted up onto his elbows and looked back at Ichigo with something akin to extremely confused arousal. Ichigo only smiled softly at him and gestured that he should go back to what he had been doing. Grimmjow shot him a very dubious frown, but sank back into the pillow, his purring barely lessened. Ichigo repeated what he had been doing, but this time when he pressed his mouth to Grimmjow's balls he only got a grunt of surprise. Ichigo sucked one into his mouth and massaged it with his tongue. A sharp inhale from the head of the bed caught Ichigo's attention, but he didn't stop. He merely switched to the other one, sucking and licking at it until both were damp. When he had paid them enough attention, he began working his tongue up Grimmjow's perineum. Another stuttered breath was Grimmjow's response. Ichigo mouthed at the firmness there before finally moving on. His hands stroked Grimmjow's hips for a moment before kneading his cheeks, preparing Grimmjow for what was next.

 

Ichigo spread Grimmjow's cheeks apart with his thumbs, ignoring the muffled noise of concern. He went right for it, tongue roughly swiping at Grimmjow's unsuspecting entrance. Grimmjow jolted forward with a yell, grabbing at the headboard and missing. Ichigo followed him back down, hands still gripping Grimmjow's ass and taking the opportunity to get another few licks in while Grimmjow was still trying to get his arms under himself. It was like the shock had rendered him stupid.

 

Grimmjow froze on all fours, Ichigo's tongue lapping at his most delicate, vulnerable bits, and wheezed a little. His eyes were as wide as they would go, but when he stared at the pillow between his clenched fists, he saw nothing. Eventually, the sensation going on at his backside began to really filter through. Grimmjow squeezed his eyes shut with a shudder and let out the breath he had been holding in. Sweat was beading on his brow and sticking his bangs to his forehead. His chest heaved as he sucked in lungfuls of air, but Ichigo didn't stop. If anything, the red head had redoubled his efforts, circling his tongue around Grimmjow's hole and pressing just a little. It took another ten heartbeats before he let out a breathy moan.

 

Ichigo stopped for a moment when Grimmjow let out the first sound that showed he was beginning to enjoy what was happening to him. Then, he dove in with renewed fervor. He let his tongue swirl a few more times before finally pushing hard enough to open him up a little. Grimmjow's gasp was all the encouragement he needed to continue lapping deeper into his hole. Each deeper motion earned him a surprised little moan or stuttered breath. By the time Ichigo managed to spear his tongue in as far as it would go, Grimmjow had collapsed back into a heap, clutching the pillow his face was buried in and using it to muffle his moans. The purring started back at full force and Ichigo could feel it on his tongue as he curled against his rim from the inside. Saliva was smeared all over Grimmjow's cheeks and dripping down Ichigo's chin, and his mouth was getting tired, but he was having too much fun to quit now. When Ichigo locked his lips over Grimmjow's hole and sucked, Grimmjow straight-up whimpered.

 

“Having fun yet?” Ichigo murmured, breath ghosting over Grimmjow's quivering pucker.

 

“Fuck you, Kurosaki,” Grimmjow rasped hotly into the pillow, completely unable to grasp hold of any real amount of ire.

 

Ichigo hummed before getting back to work, nibbling and suckling at Grimmjow's entrance. It was the sucking that affected Grimmjow the most, causing his hips to tremble and purr to stutter. His hole was winking against Ichigo's tongue nearly constantly, his thighs quaking as he struggled to hold himself up and open to Ichigo's ministrations. Now, when Ichigo lapped broad stripes over his hole, Grimmjow fought to catch his breath. Piercing him repeatedly spurred on a series of high-pitched little moans that no doubt fueled the ruddy burning of Grimmjow's flushed face. Soon enough, he was nearly writhing. Ichigo held his hips still with a grip that would no doubt leave bruises and concentrated his efforts, wriggling his tongue inside pulsating walls to Grimmjow's shameless cries.

 

Grimmjow's orgasm crashed through him with little warning. One moment he was staring blankly into nothing, toes cramping against the sheets as Ichigo did something truly sinful that involved a bit of teeth; the next he was screaming into his pillow, fists clutched painfully tight as his body contracted into itself. It felt like his hollow was turning itself inside out and being pulled out through his dick. He became aware of Ichigo's hands gentling him well before his vision returned to normal. Warm palms were softly rubbing up and down his trembling back, offering comfort and easing him back into his body. Eventually, Ichigo guided him to lie limply on his side, away from the streaks of cum staining the duvet. Long fingers combed through his sodden hair, brushing it back from his face while Grimmjow stared dazedly at the ceiling. After a long moment, a faint rumbling started up in Grimmjow's chest. This time he didn't bother to deny it.

 

“Fuck-”

 

“Yeah, buddy,” Ichigo smirked, still smoothing sky blue strands.

 

“-me.”

 

“Yeah?” Ichigo leaned over to peer into Grimmjow's half-lidded eyes, a strained little grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. “'Cause that was fucking hot. I'm so hard it hurts.” Ichigo grabbed Grimmjow's hand, holding it for a moment before wrapping it around his throbbing dick. He hissed as Grimmjow tightened his grip into a lazy stroke, hunching over Grimmjow's fist.

 

“Fuck me, Kurosaki.” Grimmjow's look might have been a few shades more blissed-out than it was challenging, but his point was clear when he squeezed Ichigo's dick tighter before letting go. By this point, Grimmjow was willing to follow any directions that didn't involve too much effort on his part. Ichigo shoved him back and finagled a pillow under Grimmjow's ass before grabbing the bottle of lube he had tossed on the dresser earlier. This time, Grimmjow spread his own legs as Ichigo slicked up a few fingers. Orgasm had made the Arrancar lax and compliant, and Ichigo was able to put an entire finger in right away.

 

Grimmjow's wide-eyed stare wasn't missed as Ichigo shifted his finger about. It only got better with the second digit, as Grimmjow discovered that with fingers came a certain depth of feeling. Ichigo worked his fingers in and out for a good minute before he started searching. The strangled grunt and incredulous inhale meant X marks the spot. Lopsided grin threatening to turn into a proper smile, Ichigo plied that little bump until Grimmjow was grinding back against his hand. Three fingers had him biting his cheek as he fisted the sheets. By the time Grimmjow was loose enough to fuck, his dick was hard and dripping again, and he was purring at full throttle.

 

Ichigo pulled his fingers out to a low growl, and he barely had time to slick his own dick before Grimmjow's ankles were hooked around his back and pulling him forwards. Never one to do things half-way, as soon as Ichigo lined up and started to push in, Grimmjow reached up and pulled Ichigo down hard enough to drive the breath out of both of them. They stayed that way for a few moments, Grimmjow with his head pressed hard into Ichigo's shoulder and legs forcing Ichigo against him. Ichigo held his breath at the suddenness of Grimmjow around him, the steady, incessant purring wrapped around his cock as much as Grimmjow himself was.

 

“ _ **Move,**_ ” Grimmjow bit out, relaxing his grip on Ichigo's body. Bloody crescents remained where his fingers had clamped down over his shoulders. Ichigo pulled out before slamming forward again, Grimmjow grunting as his nails dug into flesh again. Ichigo moved again, this time a little easier as Grimmjow's body began to adjust. He angled his hips up just a little, and this time when he thrust in, Grimmjow growled his pleasure. After that, it was quick work to set a hard and fast rhythm that had Grimmjow clawing at Ichigo's back for once. Determined not to come first, Ichigo reached down and grabbed Grimmjow's hand in his fist, stroking in time. Grimmjow came with a roar, nails dug into the nape of Ichigo's neck, right before he bit down into the meat of the redhead's shoulder. Ichigo had no choice but to follow him down.

 

They crumpled to the bed, limbs heavy and clammy sweat coating their bodies. With a final shudder, Grimmjow let his head fall back, leaving a dripping trail of blood to pool in Ichigo's clavicle. Ichigo's forehead rested on Grimmjow's heaving chest, nose tickling the silky skin of his scar. Eventually, they pulled apart, and rearranged, but neither one felt like moving past that. It turned out that Grimmjow could purr in his sleep, too.

 

Artwork is by Shapooda @ http://shapooda.tumblr. com/post/177661890299/naity-sama-was-awake-too-and-such-her-sinful

 


End file.
